


There were three, but two fell by their fathers hands

by tired_walnut



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, DreamSMP - Freeform, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Proofread, Sad, dream mentioned, ghostbur isn't real in this one, i don't think it has a happy ending but it kinda gets more optimistic, i never thought i would be writing 'how do you tag?' but here i am at three am, phil kills wilbur and tommy, phil really needs to be a better father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:34:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tired_walnut/pseuds/tired_walnut
Summary: One son cried out with madness in his voice, the other cried out in pure exhaustion. Each cry was met with their end by their fathers hand. No one a hero meets is exempt from a tragic story.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	There were three, but two fell by their fathers hands

‘Kill me Phil, kill me!’

‘Did you even care Phil? ’

Philza Minecraft was known as the Angel of Death in SMP Earth. He was known as a hardcore player, who had only one life and yet still built beautiful structures in those worlds (Dispite how nice it sounds, Phil also destroyed just as easily and had more fun doing) it. There were other titles for him, none of which he cared to get into, there are only three that matter. The third was a title reserved for three boys. He was called ‘Dad.’

‘Killza!’

‘Please, Phil’

He had adopted three boys many years back, retiring his violent titles for a more peaceful one. 

His first child was a piglin hybrid who was ridiculously smart and was peaceful until a sword was placed in his hands, then he was a god who no one stood against. That son had bloodlust in his veins and was born to fight, the sword was an extension of his arm. The oldest son was determined, passionate, against the government and always down for chaos and destruction, no matter who would get hurt, an admirable trait for one to have. He was called the ‘Blood God’ and feared wherever he went. The father and son caused so much chaos, which was a brilliant thing for their relationship. The love for chaos brought them closer together, similar mindsets only fueled to that. The two were almost always together talking about something. The eldest son made him realise how lonely he used to be and how much he loved the comfort his son brought. This man's name was Technoblade.

‘For you, Phil? The world’

The middle child was a musician with a sharp tongue. This boy could make anyone do his command with a few words and no questions would be asked, he could construct the most beautiful melodies without even trying. He had no care for wielding a sword, picking his words and guitar before violence. The middle was stubborn, outgoing, and called himself a ‘dirty crime boy’ (how wonderfully conducted were his plots, how beautifully they would play out). The father and son would spend time talking about their lives, what they were going to build next. They would spend barely a few hours together, but it counted.The middle son made the father appreciate the sounds of the world and resent the silence. His name was Wilbur. 

‘Do you know what this button is?’

The youngest child was loud and brash. He filled the silence with laughter, with joy and he was confident in what he could do, even if he couldn’t. He easily made jokes when situations were tense, somehow defusing them. He could never word his sentences like Wilbur. The youngest was loud, chaotic, and prideful. He called himself ‘Big man’ (he had always liked to think he was older then he was, he was actually sixteen). The father would tell this son his past adventures which were always listened to eagerly. The time the two spent together was rare. The youngest son made him laugh like no one could. This boy's name was Tommy. 

‘Why wasn’t I enough?’’

Phil picked his favorites, a fool could see it. He raised Technoblade with love, showered him in praises any chance he could get. Wilbur was raised with care, told that he mattered when Wilbur was down. Tommy was raised with patience, no matter how he was acting, Phil was always patient, Phil would tell him anything to comfort the boy (he picked his phrases carefully, not knowing which one would work, Wilbur always knew his brother better). 

Philza adopted three boys, however, he only raised one and took in two. He never truly raised Wilbur or Tommy, just was there when he was needed (It was always when it was too late). Wilbur raised Tommy, resulting in the blond to look up to him. 

‘It was all I had left of Wilbur’

It was no surprise to hear his two youngest had started a war, Phil thought they could get out of it easily so it was no cause for concern, but the other two called him the oldest at some point. That was a reasonable cause for concern, yet he did nothing.

His middle child had gone insane with paranoia, power had been in his grasps but slipped out just as easy. Wilbur did what he was taught by his father and eldest brother, causing chaos. Perhaps he did it as a cry for help, begging his father to pay attention to him more (Phil would always regret not doing so). So, he placed TNT under L’manburg-the nation he built with his youngest brother-his unfinished symphony. 

‘There was a special place’

They won the war, Schlatt was dead. Wilbur was president, although he passed it onto Tommy who passed it back to Wilbur who then passed it to Tubbo. In L’manburgs celebration of this win, Wilbur snuck off. 

He went to the detionation room, where he scribbled the anthem on the walls frantically. The name Tommy showed out the most amongst the scribbles, no amount of madness could stop his care for the brother he raised with pride. 

‘It’s-it’s not there anymore’

Phil had tried to talk his son out of the destruction he was about to cause (makes one wonder how what Wilbur was doing was different from Techno and Phils). Phil didn’t know his son though, he never truly did. His insisting that it was still there, the land he fought for was still there (not really though).

This was what Wilbur had wanted for so long, he wanted his father to notice him. He wanted to be a priority to his father. God he would give anything to be closer to the father that never tried. It would never happen though. His elbow pulled behind him.

‘It was never meant to be’

Eleven and a half stacks of TNT exploded behind him, Wilbur saluted to it, a smile on his face. Phil reached out for his mad son, grabbing the boy he had taken in and protecting the two of them with his black wings. Wilburs smile was less mad, a bit more like it used to be.

“Wil! It’s all gone!” There it was, the yelling started. Of course Phil couldn’t comfort his child without yelling at him. If it was Techno, he would be congratulated.

“My L’manburg Phil! My unfinished symphony is forever unfinished! If I can’t have this no one can, Phil!” Philza was a warrior, he would never tell how much his son saying ‘Phil’ hurt him. He would never admit that, even to Techno. It showed how far gone his boy was. 

“Kill me Phil, Phil kill me” An enchanted diamond sword was handed to the father, by a boy who used to have soft brown eyes which were now dull. Phil hadn’t failed Wilbur, it was the government who did. “Phil stab me with a sword, murder me now kill-Killza! Killza!” Philza Minecraft inhaled, holding the sword in his hand while looking at his far gone son, this wasn’t the boy he raised, he was too far gone. “Kill me Phil,murder me, do it, do it. Look! They all want you to!” Wilbur should not have been so excited at the prospect of his own death, but here he was, pointing as though he was a kid at a carnival. “Do it Phil, kill me”

“I can’t”

“Kill me!”

Phil screamed out, “You’re my son!” What cruel world does he live in to be forced to kill the boy he raised. 

The next words were not demanding, they were not harsh, laced with paranoia. They were soft, pleading for his life to be taken. Tears were in Wilburs eyes, there was no way to talk him down. With shaking hands, Phil stabbed the boy through the stomach, catching the limp body as it fell. He whispered softly to the boy, “You’re my son”

“Thank you,” Wilburs eyes got darker as he looked into his fathers blue ones. Phil cradled the boy in his arms, wings protecting the both of them from the world, Wilbur deserved to die without being gawked at. “Thank you dad.” Wilbur died in his fathers arms, the first time his father held him sense he was a small boy. He died at peace, knowing at least his father had a slight bit of care for him.

Philza had lost a son that day, the four became three.

‘It was always Wilbur and I. Where were you, dad?’

Philza had three kids. Philza always chose his oldest. Philza thinks (and says) that he raised Tommy to those who asked. The truth was he didn’t. Phil forgot he was a traumatized eight year old boy, falling for the carefully constructed mask built with loud laughing. So Phil continued to have his adventures, taking Techno with him. Techno himself was often gone, fighting or trying to farm the most potatoes. 

So, Wilbur and Tommy were alone more often than not. They were fine with it (Wilbur was used to it, he would admit he loved the company), if they only had each other, that was fine. 

‘He taught me what you couldn’t! What you didn’t want to’

Tommy was practically raised by his older brother. Even though he would never be able to form such convincing lies like Wilbur, Wilbur had taught him how to bring joy to the saddest groups, the raise the spirits of hopeless man who were giving up (Wilbur had taught him this, Wilbur wasn’t a fool enough to fall for his own words).

It was only expected when he followed his older brother to the Dream SMP, became the vice president for their little nation they built together. Wilbur was all Tommy knew, in Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur was always right. 

‘I just wanted a father’

Then it happened, Wilbur lost it. Maybe if he had more than just Tommy growing up, then he would have been fine. Tommy disagreed with Wilbur, but Wilbur was all he had. When Wilbur was killed by their neglectful father, Tommy only had the nation he built. However, boys forced to be soldiers are the most self destructive of them all. 

He burnt the king's house, it was an accident, really! They just meant to rob him a little bit. When put under pressure, he lied. Tommy was always so good at lying. Dream was better. Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend, the person that Tommy thought was always on his side was given two options. Exile Tommy, or trap L’manburg in obsidian walls. Guess what Tubbo chose. 

‘You-you didn’t even visit! I sat there just wanting you too, because I still thought you cared about me!’

Exile broke the boy in the same way it broke his brothers. Tommy did not go mad though, he just gave up. He stopped fighting Dream, stopped fighting the mobs that attacked him. Why did he survive? Oh right, he was raised in the house The Blood God and Minecraft himself, all he knew was to survive.

Hours were spent staring into the boiling lava in the Nether. He was so cold, god the lava looked so nice. Wilbur always said he was cold, it was brushed off as he was sick or just had very weak skin. Tommy knew what it was now, it was loneliness. Most of the time it was Tommy and his thoughts. It wasn’t his time to die. 

‘Dream told me it wasn’t my time to die… but he doesn’t decide that, I do. Kill me’

It got too much. A few months later Tommy built a tower so high that the world below him looked as though it was never there. He jumped. He lived (he was trained by the best). With a fire in his soul re-lit, he ran to the only place fire cannot survive in: the Tundra. He found his older brother's house (were they even brothers? Or strangers that grew up together?)

Techno helped Tommy (Why couldn’t he have done this when Tommy was younger? Why was he so deserving now?). The two had fun together, Tommy accepted Techno blowing up the only thing he had left of his big brother. Tommy traumatised two people because of Techno’s ideals and whenever he looked into the mirror he saw the brother who went mad. He saw he had power, but power corrupts.

‘I can’t make you choose between Techno or I, you’ve made that choice a long time ago’

Tommy had become everything he prayed he would never become due to his brother. A choice was made. A choice to side with the only thing he had left of the one who raised him over the brother who knew him only if it was convenient. Tommy knew he would die. It was better to die with the memory of his brother then to live on knowing that he failed the oldest dreams.

No one trusted him. Not that he couldn’t blame them. He caused everyone's problems, this wouldn’t have been happening if Tommy hadn’t burnt George’s house (Destruction was the only thing he knew). Tommy trusted no one either, Wilbur taught him better than that.

‘Did you even love me?’

It was futile, to fight back. L’manburg was blown to pieces. The name of a once great nation would forever be a story mothers would tell their children for them to sleep (it was the third time it was blown up). He watched his brother destroy it all, his father laugh, and his manipulator continue to pull the strings of his puppets. The soldier watched his father spread his beautiful black wings to fly to his youngest son who could only watch his brother's memory get blown to bits. 

Phil landed in front of his son, convinced the right thing was blowing up what was tearing his family apart (Phil refused to admit that he did this). Phil told him to leave, to run from this place and build a home far away. Tommy had never had a home before. Tommy was good at following what Wilbur did (it was all he knew growing up).

“Kill me”

‘Kill me Phil! They all want you too!’

“Tommy… what?”

“Fucking kill me! You did it with Wilbur, when it was too late for you to even try to save him! Kill me Phil. I’m the last note to this unfinished symphony. The minute I’m dead L’manburg’s song has ended. Isn’t that what you want Phil! Don’t you want L’manburg gone?”

“Not at the price of you.”

“I’ve been gone a long while, Phil,” Tears fill Tommys blue eyes as they meet his fathers for the first time in forever. “I’ve been gone since Wilbur went mad. I’ve been gone since he died. Wilbur raised me, Wilbur was the only consistent person in my life I could trust… now he’s gone. I think I died in that room with him.”

“Tommy I rai-”

When Tommy yelled, it was always to be heard over the chaos, to be noticed. Tommy this time yelled to get a point across “-No you didn’t! You fucking didn’t! You were gone, Wilbur was always there! Wilbur helped me fall asleep after a nightmare, he wrapped my wounds with a caring hand, he fed me and loved me! You did none of that. Phil, did you even care?”

“Of course I did, you’re my son!” 

“Kill me then. It’s the only way to end the song. Please Phil, I’m so tired of fighting”

That is when Phil realised that he had fucked up as a father to two of his kids, how their problems were because of him. To do it over again was a gift time could never provide. 

He opened his arms, Tommy came barrelling into them. “I don’t blame you Phil, I just wished you were there more. I just wished you cared more. Least this way you can put more care into him. Tell Techno I’m sorry, tell him why I betrayed him that day. Tell Dream to go fuck himself. Live the life that I will never get.”

“I will, I will Toms. I promise I will. I’ll… tell him. I’ll go on adventures that I wished we could have gone on for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there enough for you Tommy. I failed you. You deserved more than war.”

Tommy looked at his father, tears dripping down his face while his eyes got darker. Blood dripped down his shirt and to the ground. “Get my discs back, burn them. Burn them in my memory. I’m scared dad, I’m scared to die.”

“I’ll be here, I’m too late but I’ll stay here. I didn’t do it in the past but I’ll be here now. I’m sorry, oh god I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

In the arms that were meant to be a safe place from the harsh world, two boys died in them warm. Two boys who just needed their father to be there for them. The arms that had only been there for safety when their bodies went limp and two beautiful lights were blown out by their father. 

The father lived his life knowing that he was too late, making sure he was always on time for the living one. The discs were burnt, Dream was killed, adventures for a boy who would never get to experience them were lived.

In the afterlife, two boys sat together smiling at a stupid joke. Two soldiers became boys protecting the other in a world that they didn’t need any. The symphony finished with a held out note. 

Philza Minecraft was called the Angel of Death. He was called a hardcore player. Titles that were filled with pride that had a story. (they did not matter to anyone but those looking in upon him). The most simple title meant the most though, the title of dad. The title that had the most story to him. That was the only title that mattered to him. 

Philza was a father, he was proud to say that despite the children he had failed. Philza would forever remember soft brown eyes and bright blue ones. He knew the red ones that looked into his own. And he would forever remember that they all call him dad. That is the only story that will matter to him.


End file.
